


Whispers

by Drablue



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 21:35:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19048879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drablue/pseuds/Drablue
Summary: My take in the disastrous S8. Daenarys come backs to Dragonstone after Missandei is beheaded. What is going on inside the head of the Dragon Queen?





	Whispers

_“Dracarys”_

 

Daenerys gasped trying to force some air into her lungs. It was the same every single time her body succumbed to exhaustion. Four days. That´s how long it had been since she was forced to watch as her dear friend was ripped cruelly from this world. And four days had it been since she could get at least one hour of sleep.

 

Daenerys looked around, adjusting her sight to the darkness  that had enveloped her siting room in the already somber Dragonstone castle. She fell asleep siting in a couch, with her stomach empty, thirsty and reflecting on the choices she had made that  lost her everything dear to her. Usually, she didn´t like to regret her decisions. What was the point. Most of them couldn´t be unmade..

 

            _If I look back, I am lost._

 

She left Mereen. She came to Westeros. She met Jon Snow. She marched North.

 

Leaving Mereen was easy. Mereen never felt like home. She struggled to rule the city at first but with the savvy words of Tyrion, Missandei and Ser Baristan she understood what kind of power was needed to be loved and respected. Even Daario couldn´t convinced her to stay there with him. As cold as it sounded he was only a mean to stop the loneliness for a little while.

 

_“you have no heart”_

 

The voice in her head voiced her inner thoughts. In Mereen she was afraid she was becoming immune to human emotion so she looked for emotion somewhere else. Everything pointed to Westeros. It was time to go home but when she landed in Dragonstone, the scenario felt as foreign as the Great Grass Sea.  She had been born in this country, in this very island and still, no home. She started to felt despair in the exact moment she landed in the rocky beach of the castle. She felt the sand in her hands and it felt as foreign as the sand of the Red Waste.

 

_“You´ll always be alone”_

She got up so fast her head spun. She grabbed the backrest of the couch  waiting for the blood to get to her head again. She needed food. And sleep. But she was afraid even to think of taking any food in fear someone might be poisoning in her dinner. A little girl, Martha brought her food from the kitchen a few hours ago but she hadn´t touched it. She tried to be reasonable. No one was trying to poison her. She was just tired. And hungry. And thirsty. But in the back of her head there was always a voice warning her. She was in danger. She shouldn´t touch anything. He must have told his secret by now. The secret.

 

 _Jon Snow_.

 

She tried to clear her tiredness in her eyes with her hands. Jon Snow. Her heart hurt with just the memory of him. He wasn´t at all what she was expecting when she summoned the King in the North to Dragonstone to bend the knee. She expected some brute northerner like her brother always described the Starks of Winterfell. Instead, a young man, no more older than herself show in the throne room and defied her. She was so frustrated that day it was almost funny how Missandei had teased her about it. She took interest in the works of the mind of such a man. She envy him a little, really. Here she was trying to be a good Queen. Fighting her inner demons, trying to stay clear of the legacy that was her father´s reign. To control the fire of the Dragon that boiled her blood so easily. And this… King in the North mocked her without knowing with his good nature. He was essentially good. His thoughts and actions spoke of great values and honor. Always worried for his people. The fact that he was so handsome added to her frustration.

 

Who could blame her for falling in love with Jon Snow? A comely man, in his best years, a King in his own right, so good, so honorable. Always helping his people carrying on his own orders. He was a leader trough and trough.

 

_“you´re not worthy of him”_

 

She laughed  a little, annoyed with her inner voice. That much was true. The envy and frustration turn into admiration and by the time Jon parted Beyond the Wall to get the Wight for Cersie she was way in love with Jon Snow. And then the raven came and she couldn´t stand the possibility of losing him so soon. She flew North and by some miracle she found the group that had accompanied him in the quest just in time.

 

Her son had died. Vyserion. Her poor child was took from the sky and she won´t ever forget his cries of pain and outrage. It was a sight so unnatural she couldn´t grasp the concept. When she dreamt about their future she always imagined she´ll die before all of them. Since they were full grown she though them invincible and so she risked their lives thinking nothing could happen to them.

 

And she had seen the rage in Jon Snow´s eyes when the Night King pointed another weapon at her dragons. The good, honorable, stupid Jon Snow tried to be a hero and almost got himself killed. She remembered how she felt looking at the Lands of Always Winter from above the Wall. Useless. Because she had tried to save him and it was for nothing and it cost her everything. And then he had come atop a horse, almost frozen to death and she felt guilty because for a fleeting moment she thought she´d give another dragon to save him. So he can return to her.

 

_“He doesn´t love you” “You´re not worthy” “you´re not enough”_

 

She left her room trying to escape the annoying voice chanting in her head. She needed to sleep but her thoughts kept playing in her head without mercy.  She decided to take a little walk within the castle and ended up in the map room. She walked past the table and rested her fragile body against a pillar near the window, sighing. She had been so happy aboard that boat. Jon had come to her and had loved her in a way she didn´t know was possible.

 

 _“He doesn´t love you”_ the voice insisted.

 

But he did. She was sure of it. It was love what she saw in his eyes every time they were together. Every time they laugh together. Every time they cried while sharing bits of themselves. Until that bloody night. When he told her the truth of his parentage. She had been so shocked and then angry and then guilty for not asking the most important question. “How are you, my love?” Guilty for no stating the only truth that mattered. “I´m here if you need me,  blood of my blood” Instead she had lashed at him for the stupid throne and she had seen the hurt in his eyes. And when she thought to explain how hard it was to work for something you believe yours and suddenly being told you work for nothing, you suffer for nothing. They survived that night, out of pure luck. She lost another one. Her Jorah. And everything was unbearable, and then they were praising Jon for the same things she had done before and the ugly side of her had shown again.  Envy. Once again good, honorable Jon Snow made being a hero so easy that just trying to be a hero yourself left you in ridicule.

 

And she was ashamed. She didn´t like herself that night. She knew it wasn’t fair of her to ask  Jon to hide his identity to his family. But she knew it was a time bomb. A bomb to her claim, a bomb to their love. And she felt only more shamed when she realized the order of her priorities but she couldn´t help but ask. And then he answered. Good, honorable Jon snow said, “They´re my family and you´re my queen” and her heart broke because she wanted to be her family and even though she was, he didn´t include her in his pack.

 

_“you´re not enough” ”you are nothing”_

“I have never been nothing!” she shouted. She startled herself with her own voice. Suddenly tears filled her eyes.  Was it madness? This feeling she couldn’t shake her doom was coming. Was it poison? It almost felt like it was. This ruminant thought in her head, telling her it was pointless to fight, it doesn’t mattered how hard she tried to make good. She will become her father´s daughter.


End file.
